


Spare Parts Epilogue: Caught in the Spotlight

by AvatarofJord



Series: Spare Parts Universe [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, F/M, Hair-pulling, Kraglin-centric, M/M, infidelity(sorta)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 21:14:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12021123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarofJord/pseuds/AvatarofJord
Summary: “Have you asked Kraglin about it?”“Nah, fidelity ain’t exactly a hallmark of our…” Yondu chews his cheek and Peter’s shoulder’s slump.“Relationship, the word you’re looking for is relationship. Cripes man, it’s been 30 years, the least you could do is admit you like the guy.” Peter says, exasperated.





	Spare Parts Epilogue: Caught in the Spotlight

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so here's the epilogue for Spare Parts. its really just an excuse for me to write more dancing one armed Kraglin because I love him. Also i wanted to tie up all those little Nebula & Kraglin moments from the last fic. Hope you enjoy yourselves.

“Peter! Stay with me! I love you please!” Gamora shouts, her brown eyes sad as her hands reach for him. Her nails are painted red and her cheeks are flushed pink. He wants to reach for her but for some reason his arms won’t work.

“I can’t! Gamora wait!”

“Your mother is with me! You just have to want it. Please Peter!” He tries again, struggling against whatever has wrapped around him. It’s to no avail, he might as well not even have arms for all that he can use them right now. He feels completely paralyzed, and it’s killing him that he can’t reach for her.

“I can’t I’m sorry! Wait, don’t go! Gamora! Don’t-”

***  
“-Go!” Peter shoots up in his bed, the momentum enough to roll him off his bunk. His blanket is wrapped completely around him, trapping his arms against his body, preventing him from breaking his fall. It’s the fifth nightmare this week, most of them being a similar play on what he’s beginning to call “The Dream”. He keeps telling himself, he’s going to ask Kraglin about the nightmares, being that he’s the only other person nearby who’s also hosted Araneae in their head. But he’s not sure he wants the answer. Not sure he wants to hear that the recurring nightmares are a lifelong affliction. 

He frees himself from the confines of his blanket and rolls to look at the round clock on his bedside table. The hands tell him it’s roughly 2:30 in the morning on a standard Earth 12 hour clock, and he groans. He’s got the next bridge shift but its at least 4 hours away, and he knows he won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. He’s not sure if it’s sleep deprivation or not, but he’s fairly certain he can hear a melodious chuckling at the back of his skull.  

“Might as well get up, sure Kraglin won’t mind getting off his shift a little early.” Peter says, to his empty room. He stands, dresses in a deep green long sleeve shirt, an advertisement for Contraxian love bots on the front, and black cargo pants, and decides to hit the galley first. There isn’t much in the way of food, a few buckets of Beasties, which he hasn’t been able to even look at since he left the Ravagers, some of the Gamora Surprise that he’s sure is about to go bad and some of Kraglin’s Quick Soup. All in all the selection is enough to spoil his appetite and he leaves the galley empty handed. 

Now it isn’t unheard of for the hallways and decks of the Quadrant to be filled with music. Peter enjoys playing disk jockey, subjecting all the Guardians to his own personal form of Muzak. But it is usually him in charge of the music. Which is why he’s surprised to hear Thin Lizzy coming from the bridge. Although what he sees at the end of the hall, on his way to the bridge is even more surprising and it leaves his mouth gaped open practically to the floor.

 _Dancin’ in the moonlight….on this long hot summer night…_

The song has some real pep and a good beat, and even if the pair at the end of the hall aren’t literally in the moonlight, they are dancing. Kraglin spins his partner away slowly, very deliberately and Peter can see him explaining each step in detail before he reels the blue body back in and slips his mechanical arm around the lithe waist. Nebula’s face is blank but her eyes are trained and focused as Kraglin dips her back and they don’t look away from her dance partner’s. 

“Dude, what the-” A hand slaps itself roughly over Peter’s mouth and he’s dragged into one of the many alcoves of the ship. 

“Shut your mouth, ‘fore you get us both caught.” Yondu whispers into his ear, and Peter puts his hands up to convey his willingness to cooperate. Yondu lets him go, wiping off his hand on his long coat and scowling at Peter. “The flark you doin’ up so early?”

“Whatever about me bein’ up early! What the heck is that?!” He whispers, arms flailing in the direction of the bridge. He peeks back around the corner of the alcove and spies Kraglin with his hands on Nebula’s hips, moony smile on his face as he sways her, her own hands on Kraglin’s boney chest. Peter looks back at Yondu who continues to scowl at him. The breathing mask is strapped over his mouth and he heaves a deep sigh, which fogs the plastic before he pulls it down to speak. 

“Don’t know. Third night in a row they been at it like that.” He says, and based on the bags under Yondu’s eyes, which are standing out more purple than they usually are, Peter figures he’s been watching them the whole three days. They’re on their way to Spartax to drop Nebula before they start checking the Nova Corps network for the next job. It’s not a long run to the planet, but apparently it’s long enough. 

“Have you asked Kraglin about it?”

“Nah, fidelity ain’t exactly a hallmark of our…” Yondu chews his cheek and Peter’s shoulder’s slump. 

“Relationship, the word you’re looking for is relationship. Cripes man, it’s been 30 years, the least you could do is admit you like the guy.” Peter says, exasperated.

“He knows I like him.”

“He know you love him?” Peter asks bluntly, hands on his hips, as Yondu scoffs at him.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” Yondu growls and Peter throws his hands up. “‘Sides, Kraglin ain’t a softie like you, he don’t always need shit spelled out for him.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that, man. Not after watching him twirl Nebula around like he’s doin’. Lookit his face!” Peter says and they both poke their heads back around the corner. The song has turned over to “Feelin alright” by Traffic and the pair of them are moving more in sink than they had been earlier, clearly a song they’ve danced together too before. Both of Nebula’s hands are in both of Kraglin’s and when he pushes her out and pulls her back in she spins herself and then him. They come back together and one of her legs lifts and wraps around his hip before he dips her again. 

“Forget HIS face, lookit hers.” Yondu must be seeing something Peter isn’t because as far as he can tell, Nebula’s face isn’t displaying an emotion other than deadly serious. That is until her lips quirk and Peter realizes her squinted eyes are actually her smiling. 

“Dude you gotta talk to him.” Peter says when they’re both hidden behind the alcove again.

“Look, Quill, I appreciate the concern-”

“No you don’t.” 

“No I don’t. So why don’t you butt out and let me handle Kraglin.” 

Peter sighs and stares at his surrogate father in annoyance, before shaking his head and deciding laying awake in bed has to be more productive than trying to educate Yondu in matters of the heart. The old man’s always been stubborn, always condemned sentiment and where he and Kraglin are concerned it’s no different. 

On the bridge, oblivious to the turmoil unfolding just down the hall in a dusty alcove, Kraglin spins, twists and dips his dance partner again. He’s gotten used to her stone faced facade, has learned how to tell whether she’s enjoying herself. And since agreeing to teach her to dance after she’d caught him at it alone on the bridge, he’s pretty sure she’s enjoyed every minute of it. He’s not sure what it is about him she likes, but outside of her sister, Nebula has spent the most amount of time with him.

“I don’t usually think of Ravagers as dancers.” She says offhandedly. The next song is slower, and he pulls her in to gently sway her to REO Speedwagon’s “Here with me”. It’s not one of his favorites, but Nebula is warm and surprisingly pliable and her willingness to continue to humor him makes him reluctant to let her go to change it.

“Well I weren’t always a Ravager.” He says and he can see her curiosity. “Used to live in the undercity slums on Xandar.”

“I don’t usually think of the impoverished as dancers either.”

Kraglin huffs a laugh at her. “Well I weren’t, but my sister liked to dance.” 

“You have a sister?” It’s an eager question, a place he can tell she expects to be able to connect.

“Had. She’s dead.” He says and feels the mood start to shift. It isn’t just about his sister. Besides Yondu, everyone he cared about is dead, and even that had been a near thing. He tries not to think about them, the way his sister had looked, burnt out from the inside, nothing left but charred metal, the way Tullk had looked when the airlock had opened, and how similar Yondu had looked floating out in space with Quill. It’s enough to give a lesser man nightmares, and Kraglin is almost thankful that he’s been saddled with the same recurring dream since he shared one with Araneae. No matter what she’d tried to torture him with over the years, it had never been more traumatizing than his own memories. 

“How old was she?” Nebula asks, and he can’t tell if it’s on purpose or an accident that her curiosity doesn't sound self satisfying. The question succeeds in pulling him back out of his darker thoughts.

“She were 7.” He says and finds himself more than a little shocked when Nebula wraps her arms around his neck. She doesn’t stop the gentle sway of her hips when the song rolls over again, this time to Pink Floyd’s “Wish you were here.” 

“I’m sorry.” She says against his neck and he really thinks she means it. 

“Thanks.” 

They’ll put into Spartax during the next day cycle and Nebula will take herself and her things and disappear into a crowd. There’s no telling the next time she might show back up. But right now, she’s here with him and it doesn’t feel like he’s lost almost everyone he ever considered family. 

An hour before his shift is set to end Nebula departs to do a final once over on her belongings and Kraglin is left alone on the bridge. He listens to the random assortment of songs on Peter’s Zune and does some final checks of his own. They need fuel, and an ordinance restock according to Rocket and he focuses his last remaining hour on sifting through the different Spartaxian shops and markets for deals on what they need. Peter shows up about 20 minutes earlier than expected and Kraglin levers a sleepy smile at him. 

Uncharacteristically, Peter scowls at him in a fairly good imitation of Yondu. 

“Hey Pete, so I think I found a place we can get those little scatter shot grenades the Rodent likes-”

“Sure, whatever man.” Peter says and it’s short. His face doesn’t relax on his scowl, if anything it becomes more and more a glare as he sets up at his pilot station. He snaps the music off on his Zune and stuffs it in his pocket. 

Kraglin arches a concerned eyebrow at him. “Riiight. Well I also snagged a deal on-”

“That’s great Krags, really really great.” Peter interrupts him again and Kraglin takes the hint. He knows Peter hasn’t been sleeping well, and he sympathizes. 

“Ok Petey. I hear ya, I’m gonna go get some shut eye.” Kraglin says, backing out, off the bridge. 

“Great.” Peter says face turned to the navigation screen, ignoring anything else Kraglin might have to say. 

When he gets back to the  quarters he’s been sharing with Yondu, and hasn’t that been a treat, no sneaking required, no backstabbing Ravagers to have to hide from, he finds his Captain awake with a book in his lap. A large book, and Kraglin blushes when a pair of red eyes glance at him.

“You managed to snag the Annals before The Eclector blew?” He says, turning an ink smudged page. 

“‘Course I did. Those’re our stories, Sir.” He says and tries not to wilt under Yondu’s scrutiny. He’s way too tired to try and defend the sentiment involved with making sure that book made it on the Quadrant. “I’m gonna catch a quick snooze ‘fore we put into Spartax.” He says, thumb hooked over his shoulder towards the double sized bunk. 

“Krags…” Yondu starts, but he doesn't continue. He’s staring at him, eyes dark circled, taking stock of Kraglin from his feet to the shiny silver scar on the side of his head.

“Yes, Cap’n?” Kraglin prompts, half shouldered out of his jacket. He’s beginning to worry that he’s missed something, between how Peter had been acting and how his captain is acting now.

Yondu shakes his head, “Nevermind. Go to sleep.”

It’s a few hours later when Kraglin wakes up to the harsh metal sound of the Quadrant’s docking mechanisms. She’s a big bird, bulky inside a planetary atmosphere, and Kraglin’s grateful all of the stations on Planet Spartax are in the clouds. Putting her down on Ego had proven just how bad it could be to set her directly on a planet's surface. He sits up and looks for Yondu, who seems to have disappeared, before laying back down, organic arm thrown over his eyes while his mechanical one picks at his gut plates through his undershirt. He’s just about to fall back to sleep when his door chimes and lets him know someone is on the other side. 

“Flark.” He says, standing and giving himself a quick sniff before deciding that, sure he smells but it isn’t that bad. He doesn’t bother to slip on his jacket, but he does pull his pants back on, no use scandalizing the little tree, Peter, or Nebula’s verdant sister. Only it isn’t any of them on the other side. Or the Raccoon, or the metaphorically challenged muscle head. Or even the little bug. Nebula is standing dressed in her sister's black dress, holding what Kraglin figures might be a knapsack and staring straight through him. 

“Hi.” She says before pushing her way into the room. 

“Hey, um….whats up?” He asks and again is hit with the feeling he’s missing something. 

“I wanted…to say goodbye.” 

“Awe hell, this ain’t really goodbye. We’re gonna see you-” Her lips are a quick peck on his before he can finish what he wanted to say and all the pieces slot into place. Peter’s glare, Yondu’s wary and, let’s face it, fairly brittle look this morning as he thumbed through all their old war stories. Even as he begins to panic, because how do you let the “Universe's Greatest Assassin” down gently, he finds himself very flattered. It isn’t a long kiss, or a deep one, and it’s over before he can even finish processing that it happened. 

“Look…” He starts and his lips flap pointlessly. He’s never been very good at this, and up until now it hasn’t really been an issue. Yondu is the lady killer, not him. “I’m flattered...really I am...but…”

“You and Udonta are together. I understand, I wasn’t expecting anything.” She dead pans.

“Really?”

“Really. As you can imagine, there has been precious little in my life that could be considered normal. I have never sat and talked with a friend, never danced, never kissed another person. I was trained to fight and kill from the moment Thanos stole me from my home and murdered my people.” 

Kraglin thinks if she had just reached in and ripped his mechanical heart out quickly it might have been simpler. It certainly would hurt less.

“Nebula…”

“You have been my first friend. Thank you.” Her piece said, blank expression still in place Nebula goes to walk out of the room only to have a red cybernetic hand catch her elbow. Big blue eyes lock with her black ones and not for the first time, she wonders how, even knowing the feral ferocity of the man looking at her, someone with such readable eyes ever made a living as a Ravager. Everything he thinks and feels is right there in front of her.

“We’re just friends.” He says, plainly, like he’s about to draw her a map with his words. Like he’s talking her through the next steps of a dance. 

“Yes.”

“Well between friends, that weren’t no kinda kiss.” Before she can retort Nebula finds herself pressed up against one of the walls, Kraglin’s hands on either side of her face. He’s not smiling at her, blank face mirroring hers as he studies her. “Shake on it. Just friends.” He says and puts out his right hand. Nebula shakes it eagerly, and if Kraglin didn’t know better he’d say there was a tremor in her hand. His mouth is on hers in the next moment, lips nipping and pressing until his tongue can find its way inside. She tastes like metal when he runs his tongue along the backs of her teeth and she groans when he slides a hand to her leg and under her skirt. When her head smacks against the wall Kraglin almost pulls away only to have her hand in his hair stop him.

“Dont. I am not some fragile waif.” She growls into his mouth, and he finds his knees getting weak. 

“A’right.”  He doesn’t lean his body against her, can’t unless he wants her to notice how much kissing her is affecting him. He nips along her neck before going back to suckle at her mouth again. He sinks his teeth into her bottom lip and mewls when her leg lifts and wraps around his hip, pulling him in close. Kraglin can feel his blood start to boil, heat spreading up his chest. “Wait-”

“I-”

He’s about to throw the brakes on the whole thing full force, because if he doesn’t the whole ordeal is going to turn out to be more than just a kiss, and this is not the place for that, not in the room he shares with Yondu. Not in their bed. Not on the ship he shares with Nebula’s sister. Before he can, the door to the bedroom opens with the heavy sound of a disengaged lock and he only has a moment to hope it’s Groot. Because if it’s anyone else he’s fucked.

“Hey Kraglin have you seen-” Peter’s mouth snaps shut so fast his teeth rattle and he has to blink several times, because there is no way he’s seeing what he’s seeing. There is no way Kraglin, bony, gawky, snaggle-toothed, loyal to a fault Kraglin, is wrapped up in Nebula, blue, cybernetic, super killer Nebula. He isn’t seeing it. It’s not happening. They’re both looking at him and for a moment even Nebula’s expression is something other than flat. She looks genuinely shocked. Kraglin recovers first, guilty smile spreading across his face.

“This ain’t what it looks like.” He says and winces when Peter’s face grows dark.

“I should go. I...I have to...I have to say goodbye to Gamora.” Nebula easily extricates herself from the Xandarian that has her pinned to the wall, her retreat made easier because Kraglin doesn’t try to stop her. At least one of them should be able to save themselves after all. Peter stops her with a hand.

“No that’s- This is fine. I just remembered something I have to do. Excuse me.” Peter says and he steps out the door and stalks away. Kraglin feels a tiny jolt of fear swoop up his spine when he realizes that “thing” Peter needs to do probably involves talking to Yondu about what he just saw. 

“He will tell Udonta.”

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Now now that’s enough. Cap’n will be fine, you just let me take care of it.” Kraglin reassures her, but he can see that she feels guilty, and isn’t that kind of adorable. 

“I really should say good bye to Gamora.” She says, and Kraglin nods, crossing his arms over his chest as she walks out the door. “Thank you...for the dancing.”

“You’re always welcome. Happy trails.” He grins like a self assured moron and gives her a little wave. As soon as she’s gone down the hall and the bedroom door is closed behind her Kraglin smacks his head against the wall and tries not to scream. 

He showers quickly after that, dressing faster than he ever has. Nervous eyes watch over his back for the red trail of a vengeful yaka arrow, ears tuned to listen for a whistle. He sneaks off under the pretense of shopping with Rocket, careful to avoid Yondu and Peter.

It isn’t that he feels guilty, because why would he! It were just some kisses nothing more. It’s just that after the fiasco with, well, him almost dying and the things he’d said to Yondu, and even more than that, the mutiny, he’s not exactly sure how Yondu will take the news. Not that it’s news. It was just a kiss, for a friend who’d never had the pleasure of a real one. More like a job or a duty than a pleasure. 

“Yea, cause that sounds so much better Obfonteri.” Kraglin mumbles to himself, slinking out of a grocery with more than a few stolen items to liven up the kitchen selection.

It isn’t even like Yondu’s never kissed another person. Monogamy isn’t a particularly important aspect of their partnership. And if Kraglin’s honest the old man is a stud, attractive to men and women and those whose genders are less easily defined, as well as a myriad of species. He’s exotic and dangerous and charming, with hedonistic tendencies that he follows whenever the mood takes him. But usually, Kraglin’s been present or at least aware for most of Yondu’s indiscretions. For being a pair of non-talkers, they have done a good job of keeping each other informed.

“I’m gonna catch an arrow right up my ass when I get back.” He laments to the silent and uncaring sky of Spartax. 

He sneaks back to the ship late, still unsure, still trying to think of something to say if Yondu confronts him. He’s almost convinced himself he’s overreacting, that he’ll waltz into their room and Yondu will wink at him and congratulate him on finally catching a girls eye before Yondu himself can get her. That is until he enters their room and gets a look at his captain. 

Yondu is sat at the desk off to the side, the one covered with a few spare trinkets and tools. The tome containing the Annals is there too as is his breathing apparatus. The rooms on the Quadrant aren't as nice as the Eclector’s captain’s quarters had been. Less spacious, no personal bar although they do each have their own bathroom. Yondu’s got the long coat off and hung on the back of his chair, the tail bunched up in the dust on the grubby floor. He looks up as his first mate enters with a face that Kraglin can tell is deliberately passive, hands turning some trinket or another over in them.

“You been out late. Was beginning to think you were plannin’ on stayin planetside.” He says, and Kraglin tries to shrug it off. He realises the thing in his Captain’s hand is the sapphire frog he’d knicked from the Broker and grins.

“Ah well you know. Had to stock up.”

“You namin’ yourself Quartermaster, Obfonteri?” 

“Might as well, we keep lettin’ these kids call all the shots and we’s all gonna starve. Out in space. After the ship runs out of juice.” He says, deadpan and meant to be funny. Considering who he learned everything from, Peter is actually a fairly capable leader, which had surprised Kraglin during the first couple of days they’d all been on the Quadrant. Even though he doesn’t _like_ the kid per say, he is beginning to respect him.

“Huh. Speakin’ of those kids….you maybe got something you wanna tell me?”

“You been talkin’ to Quill.” It isn’t a question.

“Just answer me straight. Do you like her?”

“Course I like her.” When Yondu’s face scrunches up in what could be considered irritation, but Kraglin knows is a mask for hurt, he finds himself back peddling. “Woah woah, hang on I can see you takin’ that the wrong way.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, yes you are. Sir.”

Yondu sets the glass frog down on his desk and stares at it.

“You know it just dawned on me last night,” He says after a moment and Kraglin gulps. Whenever Yondu shifts onto a tangent it never does seem to end well for him. “This little guy here. Xandarian’s give sapphires on a 30 year anniversary.”

Kraglin can feel his ears heat up.“It ain’t a big deal.”

“It ain’t huh? That’s why you’re sneakin around, wooin’ and dancin’ and carryin’ on with some-”

“It ain’t a thing, she’s like a sister.” He realizes how stupid that sounds a second after he’s said it. It’s also true, she does feel like a sister, the same way every Ravager had been a brother. The way Yondu and Peter are his brothers even though both of them are also something else. But try explaining that to a jealous Centaurian. 

“Xandarian’s kiss their sisters with their tongues now?” Yondu snarks and his face is twisted up in a sneer.

“Cap’n-”

“Don’t flarkin’ lie to me! Now I’m gonna ask you again. Do you _like_ her!?”

“How’re you gonna ask me that after everythin’ I told you not even a week ago?” Kraglin deflects as Yondu shakes his head at him.

“I get it, alright. I do. I ain’t good at…” Yondu waves a hand at the sapphire frog. “All that. And maybe you’re thinkin’ you might like a little more consideration.”

Kraglin rolls his eyes skyward. “Yondu-”

“An’ you an’ me both know you got a preference for cunts.” 

“That is just patently not true.” Kraglin says with an indignant shake of his head. 

“Ain’t it? You gonna sit there an’ tell me you didn’t once think about gettin’ inside her pants?”

“I already got in her pants.” Kraglin says and follows it up with a shimmy of his hips, calling attention to the set of red’s he’s wearing, while Yondu glowers at him. It isn’t the laugh or the snort he’s looking for, but Yondu does stop talking and that’s a plus. As long as they're on the topic of sex, Kraglin figures he knows a way to turn the whole conversation in his favor. “An’ you know what. Even if I did have a preference for cunts, which I don’t, you know what I like better?” He asks, approaching the chair his captain is sat in and sliding to his knees. One of Yondu’s hands catches him by the hair when he tries to lean his face into his crotch. 

“What’s that?”

“Your big fuckin’ cock.” He pulls against the blue hand in his hair, and stretches his tongue to run along the zipper seam of Yondu’s pants.

“You’re tryin’ to distract me.” 

“Is it workin’?” Yondu tightens his grip and Kraglin can’t help it when he winces. 

“If you wanna go with her-”

“I don’t. I stand by what I said. I wanna be here with you.” 

“She wants you to go with her.”

“I don’t care.” Kraglin says and he makes sure Yondu can see the truth of that in his eyes. He wouldn’t care if Spartax was filled with a million women all shouting for him if it meant he’d have to leave Yondu alone. 

“Good...” Yondu growls and his grip relaxes enough that Kraglin can lean in and nuzzle along that zipper. They haven’t had much time for each other, not with conflicting shifts and both of them being laid up at various intervals. And then of course there’s Yondu’s breathing problem and Kraglin’s insecurity about his newest cybernetics. Mood killers for both of them. Kraglin’s tongue licks against the metal zipper and he groans when he feels the cock trapped behind it start to swell. Yondu yanks his head back one more time. “Look, Krags...I’m only gonna say this once, but I thinks-”

“Spit it out so I can get back to tryin’ to suck your cock.” 

This time Yondu does laugh, short and breathy, gold fangs showing. He runs one hand down Kraglin’s scarred up face, fingers lingering over the metal scar on his head. “I love you, you dumbass sack of Xandarian refuse.” Kraglin stares at him, face slack jawed and stupid. It’s not something they’ve ever said out loud, not in so little words anyway. Especially not in those words. When he doesn’t say anything in return Yondu tightens his grip again and tugs. “Ain’t you got nothin to say to me?”

“Ow! Love you too Sir!” 

“Good, now I was pretty sure I was about to get a blowie, so why don’t you get back to it.” Yondu says, dragging Kraglin’s face back to his crotch with one hand while the other undoes his pants. He’s only half hard when Kraglin scoops him up in his mouth, gentle as can be despite his teeth. He sucks hard, cheeks hollowed as he swallows down to the root and the grip in his hair gentles into a welcome scalp massage. 

It’s almost meditative, sucking off Yondu. His breathing is controlled by the thrust and retreat of the cock in his mouth, brain focused on a single task. He takes his time, draws it out, until Yondu is holding his head and fucking into his mouth, cock hitting the back of his throat, and he’s pulled Yondu’s foot against his crotch to put some pressure on his own cock. The hiccuping, gasping breaths coming from above him do cause Kraglin some concern though and he yanks his head back, Yondu’s cock leaving his throat with a wet sucking sound. 

“Damnit Kraglin-”

“Put the flarkin’ mask on a’fore you pass out.” Kraglin says, eyes pink and watery, drool running down his stubbled chin to drip on the floor.

Yondu rolls his eyes, but surprisingly does as he’s told. Sitting at the desk makes it easier, the hose is long enough that he can keep the mask on without having to wear the apparatus. Kraglin uses the quick break to yank his own red flushed cock out. 

“There ya happy?”

Kraglin smiles with his silver teeth as he spits in his hand and works it over his length. He’s got zipper rash on his chin and his lips are puffy and wet. “Happy as a F’saki in an Orloni pit.” He says, sucking the stiff blue cock in front of him back down his throat. 

It doesn’t take much after that before Yondu comes, bent over Kraglin’s head, cock pushed all the way in and chirping into the mask. Kraglin swallows easily and jerks himself to his own finish on one of Yondu’s boots. After a couple seconds of sucking in air, Yondu chuckles to himself.

“Well I guess that sorta makes up for you mackin’ on Baby Blue.” He says, breathe evening out as he stares at the ceiling. His hands grab at Kraglin under his arms and drag him into his lap. The Xandarian can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. No one on this side of the galaxy would ever believe Yondu Udonta, Hardened Ravager captain, killer of lesser men and all around Centaurian badass, is a cuddler. But as Kraglin snuggles in, mouth against a thick blue neck, he finds he’s grateful for that. This part of Yondu is all his, even if other parts of him are occasionally on loan to other people. 

“You know, Cap’n, you should talk to the Raccoon. There were an extra lung in that box we got from Ari.” 

“Was there now? Well maybe I’ll think about it. Now shut up, ‘fore you ruin it.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

***  
It’s later, much later that Gamora finds Kraglin on the bridge. He’s running several diagnostic tests on the Quadrant’s systems, smart seeing as they’re putting back out to space pretty quick. When he notices her, he smiles and gives a little wave. He’s a disheveled, fuzzy man, unkempt, and scrawny and she’s pretty sure there's some kind of bodily fluid dried onto the knees of his pants. All in all if this is the kind of person responsible for raising Peter she’s honestly a little surprised at how well he did turn out.

“Hey there Gammy.” Kraglin greets her, pleasantly.

“Don’t call me that.” She says, serious, and the smile drops off his face, a look of anxiety replacing it.

“Ok.”

She sighs at him and rolls her eyes the same time she crosses her arms. “Kraglin, I wanted to thank you-”

“You aren’t gonna try and thank me like your sister did, are you?” If he didn't look scared earlier he does now. His eyes are big and his lips are pursed so tight it’s almost as if he’s trying to suck them back inside his face. For her part, Gamora doesn't have the first clue about whatever Kraglin is talking about and she wonders what her sister has done to the poor guy. 

“I don’t think so.”

Kraglin breathes a deep relieved sigh and puts a hand over his heart. “Oh, ok good. Yondu is pretty flexible, but I think Peter would actually airhole me if you did.”

No more illuminated for the explanation than she was before, Gamora shakes her head and continues. “Look, whatever you did, for Nebula, thank you.”

“It weren’t nothin’ special.” 

“Even still. I think it made a difference, her spending time with you. I think, maybe it made even more of a difference than me spending time with her.” She tries not to be jealous, whatever Kraglin and Nebula share it’s unique. Even if she can’t understand the appeal. 

“You’re welcome.” He nods. One of the consoles chooses that moment to chime and Gamora watches Kraglin hop back to work. The diagnostic he’d been running is done, the Quadrant looks to be ready to set out. For all his many faults he is at least a capable pilot. And a capable technician. And she’s pretty positive he was also a decent First Mate. She hopes one day she’ll be able to see him as more of a teammate than a grubby dishonorable pirate.

“So, do we have a new heading yet?”She asks, a transparent attempt at conversation.

“Course we do. Collector called, says something real important is missing from his collection, wants us to find it.”

“What is it?”

“Not sure, somethin’ called the Aether. Says it was stolen during reconstruction of his place. Says he’ll tell us more when we get back to Knowhere.” Kraglin hits several buttons and waits for the station to acknowledge the decoupling codes he’s just sent. A shout from down the hall startles both of them.

“I GOT IT!” Yondu is making his way down the hall, small brown Zune held aloft and the grin on his face says he’s quite proud of whatever he had to do to liberate it from Peter. Kraglin smiles back at him with the kind of excitement Gamora usually sees in younger couples. It’s sort of sweet she guesses. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been a pair but she’s guessing it’s at least as long as Peter has been around. 

“Great! Plug her in and I’ll get this girl ready to head out.” 

“I guess I’ll leave you two to it. Excuse me.” Gamora says. She’s half way down the hallway when the music starts, it’s not a song she’s heard yet, not an artist she can recognize from Peters regular choices. When she turns back to look down the hallway at the pair on the bridge, Yondu has Kraglin in his arms as they sway in circles, dancing. 

_But you and me ain't no movie stars._  
_What we are is what we are._  
_We share a bed,_  
_some lovin',_  
_and TV, yeah._  
_And that's enough for a workin' man._  
_What I am is what I am._  
_And I tell you, babe,_  
_well that's enough for me._

**Author's Note:**

> Songs featured in this work are( in order of appearance)  
> Thin Lizzy "Dancing in the moonlight"  
> Traffic "Feelin Alright"  
> REO Speedwagon " Here with me"  
> Pink Floyd's "Wish you were here"  
> Alice Cooper " You and Me"


End file.
